Star Guild Episodes 10 - 18 (Star Guild Saga)

by Brandon Ellis

  The Guard talked into a com link pinned to the shoulder of his coat. “I've arrived at the Capital Building.” He then tapped on a different device connected to his ear, listening to the response. He shook his head. “No. It seems like I’m alone. This place hasn't been touched since the last time we were here.”

  Chase moved away from the door and leaned against the wall, scanning Zim's office, which also had vines creeping up the walls with blooming white flowers, receiving their light from the growing spectrum on the ceiling. Bookshelves surrounded the office with a large area for Zim's personal bar—a portion stained by mead that must have splashed onto it. Zim's desk sat in the middle of the office where Devon stood, looking like a pale statue. What Chase was looking for couldn't be found here—a good place to hide.

  “Thank you, S,” said the Guard in the lobby. “We tracked them coming this way, but I don't think they are here yet.” His footsteps sounded down the hallway as he headed toward Zim's office.

  Chase gestured for Devon to hide behind the desk, then Chase followed him and crouched low. Devon shook his head, knowing this wasn't going to work. Chase put his finger on his lips.

  “No inhabitants in Zim's office, S,” said the Guard. He sat down at the desk, then spoke into his com link again. “The HDC is on and someone—a programmer—had to have been here not more than five minutes ago.” There was a pause. “Yes. That's what I'm saying. Someone was here before me. They did the majority of the job.” A long pause. “I don't think so. Unless...”

  Chase and Devon could hear some typing on the HDC screen. “My guess is that whoever it was is an amateur. He or she had to use a substitute program to retrieve the encryption. It's called Program Distinguish.” The man chuckled.

  Chase and Devon took short, quiet breaths, not moving an inch. They were frozen in fear, expecting be shot and killed on the spot if the Guard found them.

  The Guard continued his conversation: “I know who wrote this program.”

  Chase mouthed the words, Who?

  Devon shook his head. He had no idea. No one should know who wrote that program except for Savanna.

  “I'm sure it's him. Devon was just here,” said the Guard.

  Devon put out his hands in front of Chase, mouthing, I don't know.

  “It doesn't matter,” said the Guard. “I know Devon created this program, though he didn't need to. It's still effective, but again, rather elementary. In fact,” the Guard stood, “how are you doing fellas?”

  “Well, that was quick,” responded Devon.

  Devon and Chase arose slowly, arms up in surrender. The Guard standing before them had his gun aimed at Chase. “S sends her regards, Sirs.”

  “S?” asked Chase, hands still up.

  “Yes,” replied the Guard, lowering his gun. “You can check the data stream now. I decoded it for you. Whatever it is you need or are looking for, well, it's all there for you.” The young man winked. “You're welcome for doing your job, boys.”

  Devon walked around the Guard and glared at the screen. The HDC was spitting out paragraphs of information from the junk data stream and translating it into readable material. And, even better, the stream was spewing out information on flights coming and going from Matrona to Lumus II and to jump points in the Andarta System—the system where Lumus was located.

  “How did...why did you...” Devon couldn't get the words out.

  The guard smiled, shaking his head, not wanting to explain how to work code. “Time to go, my friends. If I could stay, I would, but we have some very cunning men on the loose. You may know them—Payson and his gang.”

  Chase covered his face. “They escaped from the infirmary?”

  “Your uncle and your Guard didn't have a chance with those elite soldiers. They are the best of the best.” The Guard nodded humbly. “Wish me and my fellas luck.”

  Halfway down the hallway he bellowed over his shoulder. “By the way, my name’s CJ! Welcome to my life, gentlemen.” The bell on the door jingled and the door shut.

  “You don't see that every day,” said Chase.

  “Right here,” voiced Devon, who had already started reading the translation. He pointed to the screen and scrolled up as the data feed continued creating more sentences. “There are several Starhawk Transports coming and going as we speak.”

  “Then, that's where we go. Sphere 1.”

  “Why?” questioned Devon.

  “So we can take a look at the Starhawk Transports. It's just another lead...I hope.” Chase leaned over Devon and scrolled up. “It says the transports stop here to be repaired after jumping from some other galaxy and into our galaxy, then fly to Lumus.”

  “We're going to Sphere 1, now?” asked Devon. “To the launch bays?”

  “Yup.”

  “Just kill me now.”

  “Maybe after we figure this out you can get your wish,” sassed Chase.

  “Screw it.” Devon stood, feeling as manly as the Brigantia Guard. “What do we do when we get there, though?”

  Chase crossed his arms. “We continue to follow the trail. It will lead somewhere.”

  ∞

  Manning feared the worst and when he saw Admiral Byrd, he was right. The admiral was on the floor, lying on his back and breathing hard, blood oozing out of his mouth. He was clutching the right side of his stomach, cringing.

  Manning moved quickly to him and sat in a crossed leg position, slowly pulling Admiral Byrd into his arms, resting the Admiral's head in his lap. If the laser damaged the admiral's liver, which it most assuredly had, then it was a scary wound, and without immediate attention, it might well be a mortal wound. Manning thanked his lucky stars that Admiral Byrd was shot in the infirmary of all places.

  “Get help now,” ordered Manning. He gazed in the admiral's eyes, which seemed to be fading by the second. “We'll get you help. Don't worry.”

  Several Guardsmen ran out of the psych ward, running as fast as they could to get a doctor to attend to their admiral.

  Admiral Byrd nodded, then coughed and winced in pain. “Thanks.” He grabbed Manning's hand, squeezing it. “Keep safe. Keep everyone on Matrona alive.”

  Brigger knelt down beside Admiral Byrd. “Sir, stay with us. Fight the urge to close your eyes.”

  The admiral nodded again. “How bad...”

  Manning glanced at the admiral's stomach. A fellow Guard had his hands over the wound, fighting the blood coming out. They needed to bandage it as soon as possible.

  “Brigger, your shirt,” said Manning.

  Brigger quickly stripped off his jacket, and then his shirt, handing it to Manning. Folding it in half and then again, he yelled for another Guardsmen to grab surgical tape, “And I need it yesterday!” he added.

  Manning put the shirt over the wound, pressing firmly against Admiral Byrd's stomach.

  “Stay with me,” said Manning. “We have help coming. You'll be better in no time.”

  “Sir,” said a Guardsman, “I can't find any tape in here.”

  Manning wanted to throw the now bloodied shirt at the man. “This is an infirmary, man! Go and look someplace else. There is bound to be tape somewhere.”

  “Yes Sir.” The man ran out of the psych ward and down the hall.

  “Is there anything I can do?” asked Brigger.

  “Help me keep him awake and stable,” responded Manning.

  “I'm awake, guys,” said Admiral Byrd in a weak voice.

  “Good,” replied Manning. “There is something I've always wanted to ask you, Sir.”

  Admiral Byrd looked up at him, slowly raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “Your first days of Star Guild Academy...how were they?”

  The admiral forced a smile, knowing what Manning was doing—trying anything to keep him awake. “Okay.” He coughed. “The first days, huh? I was kinda...” He winced. “Damn...hurts.”

  “Your first days, Sir?” questioned Manning, doing his best not to show any sign of dread, which was exactly what he was feeling.


  “I heard 'ya...and...it was hard. I didn't use my real...name,” replied Admiral Byrd. “If I did, it would've...been easy. 'Cause I'm part...of a well known line of ad...mirals.”

  “Keep going,” prodded Brigger.

  “I'm trying...what did he shoot me with, daggers? It hurts. I shouldn't...be bleeding this much. It just...stings.”

  “The more you talk, the more it takes your mind away from the pain.” Manning didn't really know if that was true, but he hoped it would create some type of numbness where he was hit.

  “Easy for you to say, Sergeant.” Admiral Byrd closed his eyes, but opened them a moment later due to the smack he received on the side of the face.

  “Do that again and I'll slap harder,” said Manning. “Continue, Sir.”

  “Oh, Guild...” Admiral Byrd coughed again. “This hurts...I'm sorry.”

  “We need some desensitizing agents,” muttered Brigger under his breath.

  Manning gave Brigger a look, then saw a Guardsman hustling into the room holding tape. He tossed it to Manning. “Alright, Admiral,” said Manning. “We have some tape.”

  Brigger held the shirt, seeing the blood starting to seep through to the top, and placed his hand under Admiral Byrd's head as Manning securely taped the shirt in place.

  “I don't hear you talking, Sir,” said Manning, trading places with Brigger, who made sure to hold the admiral as gently as possible.

  “Alright, then...talk for...me,” replied Admiral Byrd.

  “There is a rule in Star Guild law that states something like,” Manning looked off, doing his best to remember. “Oh, yes. It says that I don't have to follow an order if I feel it is morally wrong. And, for that reason, I'm not obeying your order, sir.”

  “Clever,” said Admiral Byrd. “I came into Star Guild Academy...with...John Todd as my alias.”

  “Dumb name, Sir,” said Manning.

  Brigger eyed Manning, not sure it was okay to talk to a superior in that way and in that tone. He wished he could place his hands on Admiral Byrd's stomach and heal him. But that just wasn't an option.

  “I rose to the top of the class, but I think my dad...had something to...do...with that in the background. I'm not...sure.” The admiral coughed. “I'm getting colder.”

  “Someone get some help!” yelled Brigger.

  Manning shot Brigger an angry look, then felt Admiral Byrd's hand tapping his own. “Now, now...I know what being cold...means, just like...Brigger does.”

  Manning was starting to sweat. Getting someone, even a Med Tech, to fix his admiral wasn't happening nearly as fast as he wanted.

  “Let's get the admiral up to the main floor,” demanded Manning.

  Brigger nodded, then positioned himself to lift the admiral.

  “Wait,” said Admiral Byrd. “Don't.”

  “Why not?” asked Manning.

  “We have to get you up to the main infirmary, sir,” responded Brigger.

  “No. Leave me here. I won't make it. I know it.”

  Manning lifted the makeshift bandage, blood dripping from it. “I don't see how a laser can cause so much blood. It's ridiculous. It usually cauterizes the wound. It's not like he got shot in the neck, head, or chest.” Manning peered closer, and gave Brigger a grave look.

  Brigger looked down at what Manning was seeing. “Get him up. We gotta go now.”

  “No...leave me be,” said Admiral Byrd.

  “Grab his legs, I got his shoulders,” ordered Manning, slipping his arms underneath the Admiral's armpits. Manning shouted, “Someone get the doors!”

  Admiral Byrd grunted heavily when they lifted him. He could only muster a “no.” Wanting to die by his fellow warriors, not in some room with doctors he had never met, was what he'd rather do.

  Carrying him out of the psych ward, Manning, Brigger, and the other Guardsman made it to the elevators.

  “Upper level,” spoke Manning. “Go, go, go!”

  Entering the elevator, a Guardsman pressed the button to the level above them, which closed the elevator doors. When the elevator opened to the upper level, Brigger immediately started calling for help. Hearing the plea, several Guardsmen answered the call. Shock enveloped the crowd when they saw who had been injured.

  “Get me a doctor,” said Manning. “Now!”

  Brigger and Manning carried him down the hall, not worrying about who they ran over.

  “The room to your left, Sir” said Brigger.

  Moving into the room, they saw a man lying on the lone bed. “Off!” ordered Manning.

  The man jumped up and stepped aside, wide-eyed. “Is that Byrd?”

  Ignoring him they placed Admiral Byrd on the bed. Manning yelled, “Get a doctor!”

  “The doctor is here,” replied a female voice.” It was Captain Louise Stripe, accompanied by another woman. “She is the best we found.”

  “Is that James?” Captain Stripe asked fearfully. She rushed over, putting her hand on Admiral Byrd's forehead. “What happened?”

  The admiral managed a smile. “Nothing...bad.” He shifted his eyes to the other woman in the room. “Are you a...good doctor?”

  “I've been out of school for two years, but I'm in training under a trauma doctor, so I have some experience.” She looked at the bloody makeshift bandage and hurried over to the admiral, nudging Brigger and Manning out of the way. “What shot him?”

  “I don't know,” said Manning. “Take a look at it and remove it as soon as possible.”

  “I thought about taking it out,” stated Brigger. “I didn't know if it would make it worse, though.”

  “What...is it?” asked Admiral Byrd.

  The doctor moved the bandage out of the way, inspecting the wound. “I don't know.” She looked at Manning. “What's your name?”

  “Sergeant Manning, Ma'am.”

  “Get me a blood component administration set containing a Y-Type in-line blood filter.”

  “What?” asked Manning.

  The doctor thought for a moment. “There should be a cart with everything I need in room 9B. Down the hall!”

  Manning dashed out of the room.

  Inspecting more closely the doctor saw a large wound that seemed to be getting bigger, and inside of the wound was a small silver triangular device splicing the admiral's liver in two. The problem was not the device; it was how the device was pushing the two parts of the liver farther away from each other, but very slowly. This would ensure that the victim would bleed to death.

  “This wasn't a Star Guild weapon that shot the admiral,” stated the doctor.

  “James,” said Louise. “Stay with me.”

  His eyes fluttered open and closed as he fought sleep. “I'm trying,” he responded drowsily.

  “Dammit, James. Try harder,” she ordered.

  He grinned, happy his captain was here with him. “I'm trying.” He put his hand on his Louise's hand, saying, “If I don't make it, Captain, then please...command with both your heart and mind. You're my best...friend.”

  Louise couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. “You'll make it.”

  The doctor was now moving around the room, looking for a grasping tool to dislodge the strange device. Giving up, she lifted her hands in distress, muttering to herself. “Maybe if I can find a haemostatic forcep I can stop the bleeding.” She gasped when she saw a similar instruments on a tray. “Got 'em! Thin-nose pliers and forceps.”

  “Good,” said Louise. “Fix him fast.”

  The doctor eased inside the wound with the pliers and Admiral Byrd cringed in pain, whispering faintly, “That hur...hurts.”

  “I know. We'll get this out of you very soon,” assured the doctor.

  Louise and Brigger leaned in to watch as the doctor slowly placed one nose of the plier on the outside edge of the device and the other nose of the plier on the other edge. She slowly squeezed the handles together, then a pop sounded and she let out a quick shriek. The device burst in several pieces and let out a green liquid, oo
zing and burning into his liver, leaving a trail of smoke.

  “Oh, no!” screamed the doctor. Her eyes went to Admiral Byrd, as he let out a loud gurgle. His breathing stopped and his eyes became lifeless.

  The doctor immediately pressed on his chest, performing CPR.

  Louise dropped to her knees, clutching her heart. She knew it was over. No matter what the doctor did, Admiral James Byrd had left his body and was gone. She looked up as Manning entered the room just at that moment, and locking eyes with Louise he knew all hope had just left the room.

  ∞

  Inside Sphere 8's hoverstation Chase gave his bulva card for the third time to a woman at the counter.

  “You look familiar,” she said, taking his card again, then swiping it. “Two people to Sphere 1, right?”

  Chase nodded, unhappy with how long this was taking.

  “Okay,” she said in a bubbly voice. “Let's try this one more time.” After a few seconds, she gave him an over-exaggerated sad face. “I'm sorry. It's denied again.”

  Chase wanted to pound his fist into the counter, but refrained just as any good politician would. He had been all geared up and ready to continue his detective work, and wasn't happy about anything holding him up, especially something so trivial. Devon stood next to him shifting on his legs—as one leg began to tire, he'd shift to the other leg. Chase realized he was doing the same.

  Another swipe. Then another.

  The woman was shaking her head, her posture wilting as she stared at her HDC monitor. This wasn't looking good.

  “Why is it taking so long?” asked Chase.

  The woman grinned her pearly white teeth, acting like this kind of holdup occurred all the time. “Sphere 1 is the military sector.”

  “I know,” replied Chase.

  “Why do you look so familiar?” questioned the woman, her hair tied up in a bun. Her young eyes searched Chase’s for an answer.

  Chase shrugged. “I don't know.” He tapped his finger on the counter in a quick rhythm. “I'm aware that Sphere 1 is the military sector, but that shouldn't restrict my access. I just want to know why it is taking so long to get these tickets...and how many times do you need to swipe my card?”